Becoming Meilan
by Summercloud
Summary: Back then, it wasn't Meilan who died. It was Wufei. Now, Gundam Pilot 05 must learn to live with peace and herself. Future 5xR shoujoai.
1. Prologue

**Title:** Wufei to Meilan  
**Summary:** Wufei is hiding something, a secret that could change everything.  
**Warnings:** swearing, violence, future shojou-ai (lesbian) relationship. Nothing graphic.

* * *

**Prologue**

* * *

I knew Winner and Barton were together from the moment I first saw them. It was obvious—in the shy meeting of eyes, the hesitant touch of hands—that they were deeply in love. 

It took me a bit longer to understand the game Yuy and Maxwell played. It was a sort of cruel dance, with each advancing and retreating in turn. It hurt to watch, so I avoided them whenever possible.

So it was that even when staying with the other four pilots, I was alone.

* * *

I let my mind clear as I stared at the map, my eyes tracing the fine lines as I listened to the conversation around me. 

"Heero, you'll take the air route, here. Aim for the primary target." Winner's voice was quietly confident.

"Hn." Of course.

"Duo, you're Heero's backup. Stay cloaked as long as you can."

"Don't worry, Q-man! The God of Death leaves no survivors."

"Right." An undercurrent of amusement. "Trowa, you and I will provide distraction along the ground route here and here."

Silent acquiescence. My eyes narrowed, a hundred possibilities running through my mind to be dismissed as quickly as they came, leaving an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Wufei." My eyes focused on the high-rises in one corner of the map, and my uneasiness deepened. "Wufei!"

My gaze snapped to Winner. "Yes?"

"Will you be joining us on this mission?" Ah. So they still weren't sure of me.

I hesitated, glancing around the room—at Winner, his eyes worried; Maxwell, sprawled in his chair; Barton, whose expression was carefully blank; Heero, slouched in the doorway—then glanced down at the map again. The sound of the chair scraping the floor as I stood was loud in the small room.

"Have a good mission." I gave Heero a curt nod as I left, leaving stunned silence behind me.

They wouldn't have believed me anyway.

* * *

I wandered the empty house like a ghost, my light steps echoing strangely. I ended up curled in an armchair in the small library, an old paperback in my hands. 

For a time I felt only the steady draft of air against my cheek, heard only the quiet tick of an ancient clock, smelled only the familiar scent of old paper.

A noise tore my attention from my book, and a quick glance out the window confirmed that the sun was setting. The uneasy feeling was back, and I was caught in a sudden wave of guilt. I wanted to contact the others, warn them, call them back--

No. They were on a mission. They could take care of themselves.

In the garden I took a deep breath, letting the familiar feel of the cool air and grass against my bare feet settle me. Exhaling, I centered myself, ignoring the tight ball in my stomach. Closing my eyes, I began.

Punch. Kick. Block. Turn. _Why do you fight?_ Duck. Leg sweep. Double punch. Block. _To uphold justice. _

I gritted my teeth. _Justice? Do you really think such a thing exists? _ Kick. Punch. Kick. Block. Duck. _No. No! NO!!_ _hands fumbling at unfamiliar controls harsh breath echoing in the small cockpit_

The air changed subtly, an easing of tension, and my harsh movements ground to a stop. Head hanging, chest heaving, my loud panting filled the small clearing.

It was over. whatever _it_ was. And it hadn't been good.

I was hiding in the garden when the others returned, the sound of the Gundams loud in the night. I was there when they disappeared into the house, their grim silence telling me all that I needed to know.

I was still hiding when Maxwell cornered me in the darkness, his expression furious. He halted in front of me, glaring.

I refused to step back.

"Dammit, Wufei!" He hissed, his eyes burning into me. "You knew this would happen!"

"So eager to blame someone else, Maxwell?" My cold tone stopped him. I spoke again before he could regroup himself. "Maxwell. Report."

Maxwell's eyes focused on a point over my left shoulder, and I had to repress the urge to glance behind me. "We went in as planned, took the base completely by surprise. They weren't even able to retaliate." He gave a hollow laugh; I suppressed a shudder. "Maybe that was the problem. A civilian high rise got caught in the explosion."

_a tall building blossoming orange-gold falling falling screams dying suddenly_

"There were no survivors." Maxwell's voice broke, and I realized with alarm that his shoulders were shaking. Was he crying? "We killed them, Wufei. Thousands of innocent people, and we—" He broke off with a muffled sob, sinking down onto a low stone bench. When he looked up his eyes were dry.

My fault. All my fault.

"But you knew, didn't you, Wufei." His fingers dug sharply into my wrist when I tried to step away. "Shit, man. You knew, and you didn't try to stop us."

What could I say to that? I sank down beside Maxwell, gazing helplessly at his trembling shoulders. A memory came to me—

_warm safe scent of flowers warm skin against my cheek warm hand against mine_

I moved closer to Maxwell, laying an arm hesitantly around his shoulders. He leaned into me, burying his face in my shoulder.

Too close.

I ruthlessly stomped on my desire to run, wrapping my other arm around him instead. Guided by another long-forgotten memory, I gently rocked him back and forth, the old lyrics coming easily. I sang them softly, relishing the familiar feel of them on my tongue.

_"So many tears: they stain your cheeks and run down across your chin;  
Better not to tell with flowing tear the sorrows of your hear  
And neither should you play your phoenix pipes as tears come on,  
For surely then your heart would break in two..."_

"What're you singing?" Maxwell's voice was slurred. I stiffened.

"It is nothing." I closed my eyes and finished the lie. "Just a song my mother used to sing."

"It sounds sad."

I chose not to respond to that. "What I did was not honorable. I apologize." My fault.

"No." Maxwell's voice was quiet but firm. "We—" he hesitated. "We wouldn't have believed you anyway."

It was eerie, hearing my thoughts echoed in such a tone.

"Will you sing for me again?"

My breath caught.

_Another voice, asking hesitantly, "Will you sing for me?"_

_A rough voice, singing softly._

"_ About to speak,  
But still reluctant… "_

I fled.

* * *

I was curled up in the library when I heard voices through the closed door. Maxwell and Yuy; they didn't enter the small room. I shrugged mentally and returned to my book. 

"... he knew, Heero. He knew what would happen, and he didn't say anything." My hand stilled on the page. I tilted my head towards the door.

"Are you sure?"

"He as much as admitted it. And then—" Maxwell hesitated. "He apologized to me." He was obviously bewildered.

I had to strain to hear Yuy's next words. "Wufei apologized? The end of the world is near." I smirked painfully at the old joke as Maxwell sputtered with laughter.

"Man, that was good!" He caught his breath. A pause, punctuated by the ruffling of fabric. I waited.

"There's something else bothering you." A statement. Another pause. I wanted to leave, but I was rooted to the chair, unable to move.

"His hands were gentle, Heero." Maxwell's voice was quiet. "His hands were so gentle, and his voice was so soft..."

I couldn't breath. _Too close._ Blood was pounding in my ears, staining my vision pink. _Too close._ I was only slightly surprised to see my hands trembling.

The book dropped from my fingers with a faint thud. Silence from the other room.

The knob turned.

I brushed past Maxwell in the doorway, but a strong hand on my wrist stopped me before I could go any farther.

"Wufei, wait." Was that a hint of pleading in Yuy's voice? I hesitated. Maybe...

No. It was impossible. I was an idiot for thinking otherwise.

I tore my wrist from Yuy's grasp and kept moving

* * *

The night was quiet as I snuck out of the safehouse, a small bag slung over my shoulder. Behind me, the faint sound of talking blended with the television and slowly faded away. 

_There is no honor in running away_. A memory sneered at me. I ignored it; I refused to begin talking to myself.

Another memory, of cold and pain and desperation. _Don't order me around! This is a battle to uphold justice! _My steps faltered. A voice so like my own...

No. I had little honor left, and I did not deserve justice.

"Wufei." I stopped, my eyes searching the shadows. I needed to be more alert if Barton was able to get so close without my noticing.

"Barton." I nodded at the shadow that stepped out from the darkness.

"Leaving so soon?" The voice was cool, unemotional.

I nodded sharply. "Yes."

"It wasn't your fault."

I stiffened. "I will not deny the consequences of my actions."

He acknowledged the point with a slight nod. "Quatre will be disappointed."

What sort of game was he playing at? I started forward again. When he fell into step beside me I had to suppress a groan.

"Where will you go?"

I almost told him. I almost broke down and asked for his help, told him—

_a warm head on my shoulder a limp hand falling from mine_

When I spoke again my voice was steady. "I have missions that are best done alone. I will not lack for things to do." I stopped momentarily, then continued, more for the benefit of the other pilots than for the one walking next to me. My voice was cold and hard.

"Do not search for me. Do not attempt to assist me. I work alone."

"I understand."

When I looked up he was gone.

* * *

**Author's note:** Well, that's it, the prologue to my Wufei story. I've been working on this for a few years now, and I'm kind of wary about posting it. I hope you liked it! I'll be editing and posting more chapters soon. 

Oh, and the songs Wufei sings are from either Japan or China, about a thousand years ago. I've lost the details, and my humble apologies to these long-dead poets.


	2. Chapter One

**Title:** Becoming Meilan

**Summary:** Wufei is hiding something, a secret that could change everything.

**Warnings:** swearing, violence, future shojou-ai (lesbian) relationship. Nothing graphic.

* * *

**Chapter One**

* * *

A foot kicked me. I winced at the flare of pain up my side—a broken rib, at the least.

"This the Gundam pilot?" The ground was hard against my cheek.

"Yeah. Bastard killed Beiderman and Roeker." My hands were bound behind me; I had already rubbed my wrists raw twisting at the cold metal.

"You think—" the door slammed. A quiet hum filled the room at the lock engaged. My cuffs clicked open.

I rolled over, eyes searching my prison. Metal walls, metal floor, a sink and a toilet in the corner. A florescent light overhead. A door. A quick check confirmed that the stolen data was safe.

I relaxed against the cold floor and waited.

* * *

I was standing and ready when the door opened again. I ignored the rough hands that grabbed my arms, watching Une steadily.

"Pilot 05," Une's voice was clipped. "Chang Wufei. Why are you on my base?"

I remained silent.

"Search him." I flinched, barely, as the hands tightened on my arms. Une turned back with a triumphant smirk. "Something wrong, Chang?"

Bitch. "I have no weapons on me."

"Oh? And I should believe the word of a Gundam terrorist?" Une began to turn away again.

The words escaped before I could stop them.

"I have more honor than you could ever imagine, woman!"

She slapped me. I stared into her flat eyes, my cheek stinging. "I give you my word as a warrior of the Dragon, and on the sword of my family."

Une nodded sharply. "Fine. We'll try this again. Why are you on my base?"

Did she actually expect me to tell her?

Une's eyes narrowed, and she smiled thinly. "I see. You'll talk, in time." At her gesture the soldiers holding me shoved me to the floor; I rolled with it, trying to minimize the pain in my now very broken ribs.

The electric hum of the door replaced the click of Une's heels. I closed my eyes against the harsh light and waited

* * *

The silence awoke me. I stumbled to my feet as the first soldier entered, followed by a second, then a third. Two guards in the hall, two at the door, three surrounding me. Even with me hands loose, I would need a distraction to escape. I stood balanced, ready, as they surrounded me.

"You killed two of my friends, murderer." The voice sounded familiar—one of the soldiers from before. They closed in.

"Unnatural Gundam fucker," another muttered. My vision flashed pink, and I struck.

The first kick was solid, but I landed badly, and stumbled. Strong hands grabbed my arms and held me still.

"This is revenge," a voice whispered in my ear, as the first punch knocked the breath out of me.

I blurred the rest of it, spiraling deeper into myself, separating my mind from my body.

Distant pain.

An old voice. _Block out the pain, and nothing can hurt you._

A young voice, shouting furiously. _"You may be strong, but I am stronger! Get up and fight!"_

_rain plastering my clothes to my body wet hair in my eyes_

_blood dripping onto the cold hard floor black boots angry voices_

A rough hand grabbed my shirt and pulled me up. "We'll be back, Gundam bastard."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Now, why am I not overjoyed to hear that?"

He flung me away and I stumbled, catching myself on the wall.

The door closed, the lock engaged, and the light went out.

It was dark.

I waited.

* * *

Darkness.

I pushed myself to my feet, ignoring the sharp pain of broken ribs and the duller pain of many bruises. I felt my way to the sink in the corner, drank slowly. Relieved myself. Washed my hands.

I did not think about what the other pilots were doing. I did not wonder if that woman with the odd hair was still alive.

I slid down the wall, relaxed again the cold floor, and closed my eyes.

* * *

Light. I pushed myself to my feet. The same three soldiers entered, pushed me down, kicked me. Pulled me to my feet to knock me down again. A familiar dance. 

My shirt ripped.

The one holding me stopped at the sight of the bindings, and the curves underneath. Drew a thoughtful finger down the side of one. Grinned unpleasantly. "So the feared Gundam pilot is a woman, eh?"

I shuddered.

I was thrown back to the floor. All three guards were unbuttoning their pants.

I closed my eyes.

* * *

It was cold and dark and silent, the long silence before a door opens, the dark before a harsh light. The cold was constant.

_harsh hands harsh voices harsh words _

The ground was smooth against my cheek. The door opened and closed. Darkness. Light.

_pain_

Failing strength, pride. Failing pride, anger.

When there is nothing left you hold on, because letting go is not an option. There is nothing to do but grin and bear it, so you grit your teeth against the screams inside you and take the pain, welcome it inside you, make it your strength and your anger and your pride.

Because there is no one to save you but yourself, and the other option is to give up.

And you promised yourself that you would never, ever give up.

* * *

It went on. On and on and on.

Darkness. Light. Pain.

Sudden silence, and the slow swing of a door. Rough hands, harsh voices. Jeering.

Pain.

On and on and on

* * *

The humming stopped, but the door did not open. I opened my eyes, raised my head, looked around.

The world was red.

Shouting outside the door, the pounding of running feet and the sharp staccato of distant gunfire.

I pushed myself to my knees. Found my clothes, torn and stained with blood and—

and—

Put them on. Pushed myself to my feet. Stumbled to the door.

The door swung open.

I walked slowly down the corridor, one hand on my ribs, the other on the wall, holding me up. At the first body I paused, collected a gun and some ammo.

Kept going.

"Wufei!" I looked up and saw Quatre's relieved grin, Trowa keeping watch behind him. "I'm so glad you're okay. Can you walk? Heero and Duo are waiting in the hangar."

"Nataku?" I managed to rasp.

"Shenlong is fine. Can you go any faster? We've only got a few minutes before the rest of the bombs Duo set go off."

I nodded jerkily and somehow went faster.

They had come for me. Hours, days, weeks—however long it had been, they had come.

I ground my teeth, pressed my hand harder against my side, and kept going

* * *

**Author's note:** To tell you the truth, it's been a long time since I wrote this. Years, in fact. That said, I do have more written, and am working on more.

The one thing I need help with is a summary. I _suck_ at summaries. If you come up with a good one, or even a bad one that's better than mine (wouldn't be hard), I'll use it and credit you. You know you want to!


	3. Chapter Two

**Title:** Becoming Meilan  
**Summary:** Wufei is actually a girl! Relena finds out.  
**Warnings:** swearing, violence, future shojou-ai (lesbian) relationship. Nothing graphic.  
**Disclaimer:** All of these characters and this world belong to me. Totally, definitely mine.

**Author's note:** I'm told that this story may be somewhat confusing. Just hang in there; it'll all make sense soon enough

* * *

**Chapter Two**

* * *

I'm not sure how I managed to fly Shenlong at all, much less land safely. My vision kept fading in and out. But the world was slowly fading from red to pink, and I somehow stayed on my feet. 

Peacecraft was standing on the porch of the safehouse, hand raised to the doorbell. As I watched she paused, turned around as if to leave, then turned back again.

I suppressed a sigh. It was sadly predictable, really: put Yuy somewhere, and Peacecraft was sure to follow. Idiot woman.

Maybe she could distract the others enough that they would leave me alone.

She looked surprised to see me. I could see myself reflected in her eyes: limping, bruised, hair matted, clothes blood-stained and dripping.

"Miss Peacecraft." I spared her a nod.

"Wufei." She nodded back, already dismissing me. Good.

The others had already arrived, my injuries having slowed me down. The entryway was empty. The kitchen was on the left—Barton was cooking, from the smell of it. Going up the stairs hurt, but then so did everything. There was typing coming from the first room.

"Yuy, you have a visitor," I said as I passed. He grunted.

Maxwell's music was coming from the second room. He glanced up as I passed; I gave him a nod and moved on.

He followed me into the bathroom. I ignored him.

"Wufei, are you okay?" He sounded concerned. My searching hands found the bandages I wanted in the dark. "Here, let me help you with that."

He reached out to steady me, and his hand brushed my shoulder.

"No!" I whirled around. Forced myself to take a deep breath. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me." Lie upon lie upon lie.

"Wufei—" I pushed past him roughly. The fourth room was unoccupied. I winced as I sat on the bed, my ribs shifting painfully.

"Wufei." Winner now; his eyes worried. My hand clenched, knuckles white. "You're hurt. Let me—"

I cut him off. "I'm fine." I glared at him: leave me alone. He jumped, gave me a piercing look, and then slowly backed away. I sighed as the door closed, forcing my hand to relax its grip. Winner would keep the others away.

Binding your own ribs is harder than it sounds.

"Wufei's hurt, isn't he?" Peacecraft's voice sounded close. I froze.

"Relena, Wufei is fine. He—"

Furious shouting. "He is not fine! I saw him limping! I can't believe you guys aren't helping him!"

"Relena, wait—"

The door opened. Closed.

Shit.

I glared at her helplessly from where I sat half-naked on the bed, gauze in both hands. I was suddenly aware again of my torn, filthy pants and unbound hair. And my shirt, crumpled next to me.

"Wufei, I... you..."

So the famous Peacecraft was finally speechless. Finish the sentence, woman. 'You're a girl.' It's not hard to say. But she remained silent, so I glared harder. "Get out."

She stepped closer. "No. You're hurt." Her eyes flickered here, there, before finally settling on my face. "Let me help you with that." Another step. I snarled. Another.

I was suddenly indescribably weary. "A promise first." She stopped at my voice. "That—" I couldn't say it. I hated myself for this weakness, hated her for putting me in this situation. I bit it back.

She caught my gaze and held it. "I vow it on my father's grave. Your secret is safe with me."

"Witnessed." I relaxed slightly as some of the tension left me. Still, it was hard to say. I did it anyway. "Miss Peacecraft. I would appreciate your assistance with this."

At the first touch of her hands I was rigid again—

_harsh grasping hands_

_sneering voices_

_pain_

I forced myself to stop shaking.

Peacecraft's hands were gentle where they brushed mine.

* * *

_Cold._

_I opened my eyes. _

I was dreaming; I knew it, yet was equally helpless to do anything about it.

_Dark._

_My body ached: ribs broken, bruises forming. And a deeper ache, one I ignored._

_The air hummed._

_They would be back._

* * *

I woke to intense arguing. Peacecraft was blocking the doorway with her body. Beyond her, Yuy hovered, shadowed by Barton. I blinked. 

"Relena, let me in." Yuy moved to one side. I struggled to sit up, my head pounding. The room tilted dangerously.

Peacecraft followed his movements. "No."

"Wufei is hurt and sick. I need—"

"You hypocrite!" Peacecraft's voice was low and angry. "Wufei was hurt and sick when I got here, and you were all oh-so-carefully not helping him! And now you're upset because _I am?!_ Don't you_ dare_ even _try_."

Yuy hesitated, obviously unwilling to push past her. I blinked again and laid back down. I had clearly woken up in some alternate dimension, and the only solution was to go back to sleep. Surely when I woke up again things would be back to normal.

Barton's quiet voice broke the stalemate. "Heero, leave it. They'll be fine."

The door clicked shut.

"I can't believe I just did that." Peacecraft sounded slightly hysterical. I regarded her warily.

"Thank you." For some reason, the words didn't seem so hard to say this time.

She looked up in surprise. "You're welcome." A wry grin. "Besides, he deserved it." She laid a cool hand on my forehead. "You're burning up. Why don't you go back to sleep, and I'll make sure no one else comes in."

I thought about arguing, considered insisting that I was fine, but it just didn't seem worth the effort. As I drifted off, I registered faint protest at having been so expertly maneuvered. Damn politicians.

* * *

_It was dark. I shivered._

_Sudden silence, and the slow swing of the door._

_Rough hands, harsh voices. Jeering._

_Pain._

Light. Peacecraft was shaking me.

I had the gun out and pressed to her temple before I opened my eyes. She stared at me, eyes wide.

"Idiot woman!" I shrugged her hands off irritably. "Do you have some sort of death wish?"

She backed off. I took a quick inventory as I sat up: ribs sore but bearable, bruises tender. Good enough.

"Wufei." There was a determined note in Peacecraft's voice that made me look up. "What happened to you?"

I stilled. "Why do you ask?"

Her hands twisted together. "Your dreams—" she broke off. Took a deep breath. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Naive fool. Was I ever that young?

_A night of cold rain and slick grass. _

"_I will live for justice. I will change this world!"_

I had been. Once. Long ago.

I squared my shoulders and shook it off, slipping my sword through my belt. Halfway to the door I turned and bowed low, ignoring the pinch of broken ribs.

"Thank you for your assistance. I will not forget my debt to you."

At the door I turned around. Peacecraft was standing silently in the center of the room, looking lost. I quenched a sudden surge of sympathy. "This is war, Princess. Get used to it."

* * *

**Author's note:** I've _always_ wanted to say that last line. 

The next part picks up after the end of the war, but it's not done yet. So it may be a bit of a wait; rest assured, though, that I _will_ be writing more and eventually finishing this.

What'd you think so far? Good? Bad? Do tell!


	4. Chapter Three

**Title:** Becoming Meilan  
**Summary:** Wufei is actually Meilan—a girl! But how does one learn to live with peace? Wufei decides to go back to school.  
**Warnings:** swearing, violence, future shojou-ai (lesbian) relationship. Nothing graphic.  
**Disclaimer:** All of these characters and this world belong to me. Totally, definitely mine.

**Author's Note:** And we're finally getting somewhere! The previous junk's all been lead-up: the real meat of the story is coming right up. It all starts coming together, and next chapter we have the reappearance of a familiar (and dreaded) face.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

I'm…not going to go into the rest of the war. It was long, and hard, and lonely. We won some battles, and lost some battles. Eventually, we won the war.

And then—

First, there was only relief. Then the heady rush of victory: we won. Justice had been served. It was over. Finally, finally over.

And then—

I woke up the next morning, and I was still alive. People in the streets were still celebrating; I could hear them through my closed window. The war was over, and my family was still dead. My _clan_ was still dead. Hell, my entire _colony_ was still dead.

What was I? What purpose had I in this new world? Where was I to go, what was I to do? Who could I even speak to?

Nothing. No one.

It wasn't the most depressing thing ever—Wufei dying on my shoulder took the prize for that one—but it was close.

The future stretched before me, empty. I had _no fucking idea_ what to do with it.

And I kept _hearing_ things. _Seeing _things. Things that weren't there. Jumping at noises: the slam of a distant door, fireworks exploding overhead. I knew what this was, had reluctantly studied it so long ago. It was the first day after the war, and I had post-traumatic stress disorder.

I am a warrior. I always have been, and I always will be. What place does a warrior have in peace?

I had a lot of money, the accumulated wealth of the Dragon clan. Blood money, but I wasn't afraid to use it. I had no need to work, so I didn't. I don't remember exactly what I did do. Existed, likely; it surely wasn't living.

A year later, Quatre contacted me about sending the Gundams into space. I didn't reply. I had already joined Mariemaia's rebellion.

* * *

Mere weeks later, Mariemaia's rebellion was over. In the end, I had fought with the other Gundam pilots against her. Against war, that three-step waltz she was so fond of. I was surely a soldier, but Yuy had convinced me to try peace.

The forest I stood in was quiet. Birds sang nearby; I had been standing here, motionless, long enough for them to land on me if they so chose. The trigger in my hand mocked me silently. Did I dare press it?

I looked at Nataku one last time. We had been through a lot together, she and I. In a way, she was my last memory of Wufei.

But I didn't need something to remind me of him. I _was_ Wufei, in every way that mattered.

Maybe that needed to change.

To live in peace was a tall order. The only thing I knew how to do as Wufei was fight. To live with peace…

Maybe—

Maybe it was time to be Meilan again.

I took a deep breath. Looked at Nataku one last time. And pressed the trigger.

"Nataku, rest in peace."

Behind me, Sally Po finally stirred. "Wufei. Noin and Zechs have disappeared somewhere. How about it? You want to work with me?"

I thought about it. I needed to do _something_, true, but…

"A preventer, eh?..."

But.

"No thank you, Ms. Po." I almost stopped there, then changed my mind. The war was over. I had no reason to be so tight-lipped anymore. Besides, Po had been a good ally during the war, and surely deserved more. "The war is over. I find I need to learn how to do something other than fight."

Po looked startled. Then she smiled. "Good luck with that."

I bowed in return. "Thank you for your assistance during the war. If there is any way I can repay you—"

"Oh, don't worry about that," Po interrupted. "I'll think of something. And Wufei…" She laid a hand on my shoulder, left it there even after I flinched. "Keep in touch, okay? Don't be a stranger."

The smile came out of me unbidden, and I could see her astonishment at it. When was the last time I had smiled?

I couldn't remember.

"Thank you, Sally. I will."

And then I left, before she could question me on my use of her first name. I had just realized that Sally Po was my first, and quite possibly only friend since—

Since Wufei died.

I shook off the morbid thought. The sun was out, the birds were still singing, and the war was over. A new life, right?

Right.

* * *

You know how they say that it's never as easy as it sounds?

That…was my life.

I stared into the dingy mirror above the sink in the flea-ridden motel room. My reflection stared back, unflinching. "I don't remember how to be Meilan," I told it. Then I scowled. So much for a new life.

My reflection, of course, scowled back at me. In that little mirror, _Wufei_ scowled back at me. On a whim, I reached back and pulled out my hair tie.

My hair fell down around my face, softening its harsh angles. Making me look…feminine.

I shuddered and quickly pulled it back again. Small steps were obviously the way to go in this case. Miniscule steps, even. In the background the telecaster droned on. I practiced another scowl in the mirror, and this time felt grim satisfaction at the boy staring back at me.

Sometime the things that change your life come unexpectedly—little decisions that, at the time, seem inconsequential. In the end, it is these moments that decide your future. Years later, I would look back at what happened next as one of those moments. At the time, of course, it seemed pure chance.

What happened was that I turned away from the mirror to watch the rest of the newscast.

"…_so Chancellor Moeser, why are you opening the doors of your school so suddenly?"_

"_We hope to give all young people a chance to build something with their lives away from the pain and suffering of war…"_

Instantly my heart lightened: not much, but just enough. Just enough that I could see the dim path of something opening up before me. The future, maybe. Or just hope. It was more than I had had in a long time.

I wrote down the name of the school: _Pax University_.

Not subtle, but it would do.

I was going back to school.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Okay, I admit it: I took the chancellor's name from my old university. If you can figure out where I graduated from, you get a prize!

Special thanks go to **nightcrawls**, for being such a positive reviewer. Thanks!

Join Wufei next time in **Chapter Four, **where she discovers just how crappy dorm rooms can be, seriously considers requesting a new roommate whose favorite color _isn't_ pink, drops at least two classes, and boycotts the cafeteria. All in **Becoming Meilan!**


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